Friday night twilight—
we wait on a cold corner,
traffic blasting by
Ploosh! Plap! and
then comes
an indescribable stench!
All from eating beef!
Even the water
for the fake hotel room plant
is fake—fake water!
*
My tender footsteps
down a rain-glazed evening street—
hiss of sizzling tires
So enchanted by
steam rising from a tea cup
while my work screen glares
I turn off my ‘phone’
—freaking pocket computer!—
and feel real Power
*
It’s quite a nice life—
under warm blankets at night
listening to rain
Hearing two men talk
on the train to work I think
of stacking boxes
How much I prefer
walking in the gushing rain
to riding this train!
*
Brighter than streetlamps
lighting my trudge home from work—
a swan-white full moon
.
